quieting a heart

When the kids are all ready for bed at night and we kneel down to say our prayers, Robbie will ask the kids, "is your heart quiet?" He wants them to calm down and be able to focus on our prayer. The other night I felt a little impatient as I waited for them to get quiet in their hearts. I had work that still needed to be done and to many things running through my head. Could we just get on with this so I can get back down stairs?! Then I smiled to myself. My Father was waiting for me to quiet my heart too.

We had Thomas' cardiology appt last Friday. It's been a week now. The little holes in his heart are very small. So small, in fact, that if they didn't close on their own it wouldn't cause any harm or any unnecessary stress. That was very good news. We'll be going back in 2 months just to check up and see if they have closed. However, the cardiologist did urge us to see a geneticist. I told her we had been wondering about a genetic syndrome called Cri du Chat.

Thomas' pediatrician does not think he has anything going on. She reluctantly gave me a referral for a genetic test to be done on him (that was two weeks ago, we're still waiting on the results). Her reluctance had given me hope.

The cardiologist seemed to think differently though. She mentioned how different his cry seemed while pulling out a big book full of different ailments. She found the chapter on Cri du Chat and then proceeded at pointing out the similarities between Thomas and the known symptoms of the syndrome. Although, I had been thinking that this is what little Thomas has for a week or two, her words hit me like cold ice and I felt my body slowly going numb and reluctantly agreeing.

That night, Robbie looked more up on the computer. We sat on the couch talking and I cried. As I held Thomas and stared at him, I had a deep feeling of sorrow and fear of the unknown. A feeling I didn't want to feel because I wanted to rejoice in my baby. As tears rolled from my cheeks, I kiss Thomas and tell him I love him. Of this, I know is true. Nothing will change that.

For days in a row it seemed my mind wondered and wondered through the unknown. What will we do now, what does this mean for our family, for Thomas? Fighting back tears every other minute, it seemed. I felt as though this was something I could not handle and didn't want to have to handle either.

I want so much for Thomas to be well, to live a normal life. We pray for his healing but I can't help but wonder what God has planned. Will the fruit of our prayers be changed hearts in us, a sense of peace and encouragement as we embark on this new journey as parents? Maybe, it will be a quiet heart ready to be filled with God's grace. The grace to be the parents and persons God has called us to be. The grace that will help us to achieve holiness and one day be in heaven with Him.

Struggles are a funny (for lack of a better word) thing. No one wants to struggle, yet when we do, with God's grace, we come out a stronger better person and/or with a stronger, more loving relationship. I don't want Thomas to have these struggles, I don't want to struggle with the worry of the unknown of the upcoming years and what they may bring, in this regard. Yet when I think about it, our goal isn't to live an easy comfortable life, it's to become holy. To love God whole-heartedly. I want this for all of our children, my husband and myself.

If this is in God's plan for our family, for Thomas then why would I want to miss out on this opportunity. The opportunity to suffer, love greater, to trust, to have patience, to find greater joy. In this life, no matter what the struggle or the cross may be, it's important to find our strength through Him. He is there, all we need to do is quiet our heart and listen.